


Psychopaths In Love: A Borderlands Story

by MadLoveAndPsychoKisses



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Corporate Espionage, Dubious Morality, F/F, F/M, Fun With Body Doubles, M/M, Multi, Murder, Porn With Plot, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Sex Work, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadLoveAndPsychoKisses/pseuds/MadLoveAndPsychoKisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Handsome Jack meets a woman who might be able to keep up with him, but what's the cost of dating another psychopath? It will probably end badly, but the sex is amazing.</p><p>This story takes place between Borderlands: the Pre-Sequel and Borderlands 2, during the early days of Handsome Jack's career as Hyperion CEO. Expect some appearances by old friends, mass murder, and a lot of erotica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Life and Death of Cherry Delicious

**Author's Note:**

> Starring Handsome Jack as THE PRESIDENT OF HYPERION  
> Lola as THE LUNATIC WHO LOVED HIM  
> …And a lot of people who will probably be dead soon  
> as THE COLLATERAL DAMAGE

“Next up onna main stage, let’s hear ya SCREAM forra one, da oooonly… CHERRRY DEEE-LISHUS!”

A driving backbeat sounded and a woman stepped out onto the floating stage, graceful despite her high-heeled silver boots. Strategic beams of light played across her bright red hair, lips painted cherry red to match, and the impressive cleavage showing in her low-cut minidress. Then the stage lights came fully up, flashing off the metallic dress that fit her like a second skin, the music started, and she began to dance.

In a way, she was lucky – many envied her those curves, that gorgeous face, and all the doors they'd opened. But her early blossoming beauty had also drawn the wrong kind of attention on Deosil, the backwater moon where she was born. She’d had to grow up fast, and mean. She’d stabbed her first man to death just after she turned 13; she still preferred knives to any of the other deadly weapons she carried.

Money showered onto the stage as she contorted into strange and graceful poses, stretching the dress away from her body to show herself off one part at a time. She tended to find people more appealing and approachable when they were in pieces, and her odd style of dancing reflected this. She scooped up the bills and tucked them into her garter. No harm in getting paid twice tonight.

Her other objective was much more lucrative. Five hundred million Pandoran dollars – an unheard-of sum, even after the exchange rates to be able to spend it on some halfway civilized planet – to take down the CEO of the Hyperion Corporation, a man who went by the name of “Handsome Jack.” Some narcissist (not that she necessarily disliked that) who was probably about as attractive as a Ken doll. Perfect and neutered.

She had hacked his personal assistant’s ECHO to find his schedule. (Jack's assistant, who was surprisingly well organized as well as pretty and stacked, was nevertheless no match for her cyber snooping skills. She'd been getting around access restrictions since she was a teenage moon rat scamming information out of public ECHO terminals.) When she found out that Jack frequented the Black Cat Club, the swankiest strip club on Pandora, she arranged an audition and showed off the skills that had helped buy her first cloaking shield. One sabotaged New-U machine and a steamy set on stage later, all that remained was to find her target, cozy up to him, and put a bullet in his skull. Her cloaking shield, currently disguised as a bracelet, would take care of her exit.

She dropped a word in the ear of the closest friendly cocktail waitress, and was pointed towards the VIP booth where Handsome Jack sat. He was surrounded by women offering him drinks, dances and themselves. He talked to them, laughing often, feet resting casually on the table in front of him (which, to match the other gaudy décor, was in the shape of a black cat the size of a panther.) He sipped at a glass of something purple and fizzy, seeming uninterested in any particular woman.

As she drew within sight of her target's face, she had to stop to drink it in. She was drawn to him in a way that she rarely was to men – or anyone, for that matter. His eyes were interesting, one blue and one green. His hair was perfectly tousled in a way that must have taken ages in front of a mirror, his mischievous grin was charming, and he had the kind of slim, long-legged body she would love to strip and explore. He definitely lived up to his nickname, and as she undulated up to him she reflected that it was almost a shame to have to kill him. Oh well... at least she got to touch him.

He turned to her with a welcoming smile as she approached, looking her over slowly and appreciatively. He beckoned her close and she accepted the summons, saying not a word before climbing on top of him. Her bare legs straddled his thigh, and she rubbed her body against his while her hands explored his chest. God, his suit was amazing, it was tailored to display every fit, lean line of his body, and the material felt like a cross between leather and silk. She rocked her hips against him and was rewarded with a low groan and a rising hardness through the sleek material of the pants. 

As she ground against the impressive bulge of his cock, her hands moved up to trace his angular jaw. Suddenly she wanted to grab him and kiss him. She didn’t, of course – the idea was silly – but as her lips hovered near his, red hair hanging around them in a curtain, she let out a soft sigh. She let the side of her face brush against his, inhaling the scent of his hair and his intoxicating cologne.

He reached to stroke her hair back from her face, his breath tickling her neck and sending thrills down her spine as he murmured into her ear, “Are you supposed to get this friendly with clients?”

She was startled from her trance into remembering why she was here. This wasn’t a social call, it was business – and of an even more mercenary kind than stripping. She gave Jack her best smoldering smile. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, sugar," she said in a back-country drawl that fit her alias.

"Meaning, I have seen something," he noted. "I definitely have." He leaned back, hands tucked behind his head casually, as she raised a leg to rest her boot delicately on the back of his chair, her bare thigh beside his face. She stretched limberly towards it, fingers stroking teasingly down her leg, until she reached her boot. She unzipped the top of it, giving her access to the tiny gun secreted in the curve of her knee. She raised it in one quick motion, pulling the safety and cocking the weapon before firing directly into the man's temple.

...Or at least, that's what should have happened. In the space of half a second, her fingers slipped over where the safety was supposed to be without catching it, a confused thought crossed her mind that the safety had already been off and she was lucky to still have a leg, and then she was realizing that the mechanism and trigger felt all wrong. And, why was the gun so light?

Then Handsome Jack was laughing at her, she looked down at the kids' toy she was holding, and realized how wrong everything had just gone. She had attempted to kill the most powerful man on the planet with a water gun. An empty water gun. She had no idea how this had happened, but she assumed from his total lack of surprise that it had something to do with Jack.

“Since you’re not really a stripper, does that mean I can touch you?” he asked, stroking the side of her waist lightly. She leaped off his lap, glaring fiercely. She thought she might be blushing... this whole situation was horribly embarrassing. “How did you come up with Cherry Delicious, by the way?" he continued. "It’s so perfectly trashy.”

“The clients suggested it,” she admitted.

“Oooh, ouch. Now you have two things to kill them for. How ‘bout I come with? The only thing I like as much as going to strip clubs is dishing out random violence.”

She had to admit that she liked this guy’s priorities. "I can't say I follow you. Why would I kill the people who were going to pay me?" She paused. "Uh, thank you for taking this so well, by the way. Not having me executed or dragged away to a torture shed or something is pretty unexpected."

He shrugged. "I get bored. As for your employers, it's adorable that you think I could have done THAT all alone" - he gestured towards the toy - "but it's not like I'm constantly scanning for weapons to molecularly rearrange. I knew you were coming and had a good idea which weapon you'd be carrying." He winked at her. "Not a lot of room to hide anything bigger in that outfit, which I must say, you manage to pull off."

He stretched languidly, clearly enjoying making her wait for the punchline. "They tipped me off. Whoever hired you was trying to get you killed, gorgeous. Killed slowly and nastily, which is what I'm famous for. What do you say, why don't we make a night of it?"

She thought about it for a moment. "No. I'll take care of it." With great reluctance, she added, "And thank you." She turned to leave.

"Hey!" called Jack. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"None of your business," she shot back.

He laughed at her again in his charmingly infuriating way. "I was just being polite by asking, you know. See you around... Lola."

She wasn't going to spend any more time questioning how he pulled off this kind of thing, like figuring out the name she hadn't used in twelve years. There were things to be done before her current prey skipped town.


	2. You Are Cordially Invited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack invites Lola to a mysterious function for unknown reasons, teases her, and invites her out for pizza. Skip this chapter if you're just waiting for the porn.

Lola looked at the small gilded card on her ECHO screen again. She turned it upside down and right side up again. She tapped it, half-expecting the words to change to some punchline that would make more sense.

Your attendance is cordially requested at  
the Dahl Munitions Gala  
as the honored guest of Handsome Jack

After glaring irritably at it for awhile longer, she swiped the Reply tab. Jack’s grinning face appeared on her screen almost immediately. “Hey babe. What’s up? Don’t worry about finding something to wear, I can buy you a new dress. Hell, I can buy you a thousand dresses. Do you wear many dresses? I mean, I haven’t seen you in much, heh, pun intended, but you did look great in that stripper outfit….”

She pointed a knife at him, which while not a threat over ECHO did get his attention. She brought up the invitation on their screens. A dozen questions crowded for prominence, but she settled for asking, “Is this a joke?”

“Absolutely not!” he insisted, though he didn’t seem surprised by the question. “I, Handsome Jack, President and CEO of Hyperion, want to take you, Lola – pretty name, by the way –“

She cut him off again. “This is crazy. I tried to kill you last week. An assassination attempt does not count as a date, okay? We do not have the kind of relationship where we go to Galas together.”

“Hey, you didn’t even hear my made-up job title for you! It was gonna be hilarious.” He sighed. “Moving on. I think you’re right about that date thing. Hold on, I’ll beam over to your apartment so we can talk about it.”

“What?! How do you know where I live?” she demanded. But he had already dissolved into a mist of pale blue pixels, his end destination soon apparent when he knocked on her front door.

She flung it open, prepared to put the fear of God into him. Oblivious to her death glare, he strolled in. “Nice place. Did it come furnished? If you decorated this yourself, I could really use a hand with my new office.” He sat on a burgundy leather sofa, legs crossed at the perfect angle to show off the creases in his jet-black metallic suit pants, arms resting on the back of it like he owned the place. She had to admit he looked damn good, in a white tailored shirt, grey vest, and slim black tie in the same shiny material as the pants.

Lola was so totally bewildered by now that she was running out of surprise. “What are you doing here,” she said, sounding more resigned than curious.

“I think you’re right,” Jack said cheerfully. “Going to this Gala together when we haven’t been on a date is crazy. So let’s go out somewhere.”

“What? You’re really asking me on a date?” she sputtered. “Absolutely not!”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “Why not? You can’t deny there's chemistry here.”

“Oh yeah?” she snapped. “Watch me!” She leaned down to yank him off the couch, and when he grabbed her wrist, she instinctively reached for the knife clipped to her waistband.

He kissed her. Her hand holding the knife wavered, dropped to her side. Suddenly she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t done this sooner. Her eyes closed, her body relaxed, and she fell into what was undoubtedly a very skilled kiss. He guided her down onto the couch beside him, hands moving to explore her body as his tongue worked against hers. He laced the fingers of his left hand with her right, the knife handle clasped between them. It was strangely intimate.

When they came up for air, both were breathing heavily. “Jack,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“I like making you sound like that,” he said, his voice husky with his own desire. He took a deep breath, let it out, then continued in his usual jovial tone. “But for now, we have somewhere to be.”

“What? But – “

“You were desperate to go on a date with me, or did you forget? Now hurry up and put on something sexy. We just have time to make it to the one place on Pandora that serves decent pizza before the sun sets.” He gave her another quick kiss, a smack on the ass, and whirled her around so she was facing the general direction of her room.

She gave one last try at inserting some sanity, exclaiming, “But… I tried to KILL you!”

“So you keep saying,” Jack said with a smirk. “But I think we both know that if you really wanted me dead, I would be.”

She paused, disarmed by the subtle compliment. “Huh. I guess so.”

“And admit it. When you learned that the contract was off, weren’t you just a little bit pleased?” He gave her his most disarming smile. “C’mon. Pizza. What’s the harm.”

Lola thought to herself, “This guy is as crazy as everyone says. Absolutely insane.” Immediately followed by, “…And that’s your type, isn’t it? What the hell.”

So a few minutes later, she was emerging from her room in a shiny black dress and a pair of ankle-length jump boots, ready to get pizza with the richest man on the planet. Who was also pretty handsome.


	3. Just Another Bandit Shithole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected detour on the way to dinner ends up working up an appetite. There are three parts to this chapter - a problem, a resolution, and a climax.

Jack's car was, as expected, an ostentatious piece of high technology, Hyperion yellow with deep black grooves on the sides. "Latest model," he said proudly. "I've got the first one off the line." The front seats were close enough that when Lola was seated, he was able to drape his arm casually around her shoulder, one hand grazing her breast temptingly. The car purred as it pulled away from the ground, hovering a comfortable few feet above the sand and boulders that made up most of Pandora's surface.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Not far," he replied vaguely. "A place that an old friend of mine runs. Well, actually she sort of hates me... and we used to fuck... it's a long story. But I promise, you're gonna love the pizza."

Jack pulled back on the wheel, sending the car smoothly into the air. Lola gasped as they accelerated dramatically enough that the landscape blurred around them for a moment, then relaxed as it leveled out a few hundred feet up. While the top appeared to be open, convertible-style, the wind wasn't strong enough to pull her hair out of its bun; she had to admit it was a nice design.

She was enjoying the ride when Handsome Jack put a cautioning hand on her leg, taking the excuse to give it a squeeze. "Hang on," he advised her. "The landings in Hyperion cars are... kinda dramatic." He tipped the wheel down to start their descent.

Though Lola was wearing a seatbelt, she yelped and grabbed for Jack as the car turned into a steep dive. She was embarrassed at her reaction, but his torso was warm and lean and felt good, so she kept holding on. "Sorry," she mumbled. "That startled me."

"Uh, you had exactly the right reaction, actually," he said, trying to sound casual; it instantly put her on edge. She'd learned that much about him already. "Y'see, we're sort of about to crash."

"How?" Lola demanded, trying not to panic.

It wasn't the right question, but he understood what she meant. "I guess maybe I shouldn't have taken one before they were sent through crash testing, huh?" He spared her a quick glance that was probably meant to be reassuring. "But we're gonna be fine. The air cushion will save us from the worst of the impact, and the gas will keep us relaxed enough not to get hurt."

"The gas??"

"Short-term sleeping agent," he explained. "New Hyperion safety measure. We'll sleep right through the crash and wake up nice and relaxed." He flicked the toggle for auto-pilot, then tucked a playful arm around her waist. "The computer's got it from here. C'mere and fall asleep on my chest. It'll be romantic."

"Turn off the gas!" she shouted.

"What? It's automatic," Jack said, having to shout as well as the wind screamed past them, overcoming the atmosphere shields. "And it's harmless, I promise!"

She pointed down at the ground; he'd been busy enough with the displays and the radar that he hadn't looked down for himself. "There are trucks moving down there! Bandits or something! How fucking long does the gas last, anyway?"

Jack tore off the console panel, pawing through the tangle of wires. Realizing he'd never find the right one in time, he swore, "Oh, shi-" And then a swift fall into darkness, eased on soothing wings of Hyperion pharmaceuticals.

...

.....

.......Lola opened her eyes. It was as bad as she'd thought. She was in a heavy metal cage that may once have held fighting skags or other livestock, only big enough to sit up. She had been stripped down to her purple lace lingerie, and a quick pat-down confirmed that her weapons were gone. Whoever had searched her had even found the capped hypodermic of fast-acting toxin tucked up in her hair, which was now hanging loose around her shoulders.

She looked around and spotted Jack, lying on the ground - asleep, pretending to be, or maybe wounded. She couldn't see his face, so couldn't tell. He was likewise stripped down to his boxers, this pair an iridescent green like a beetle's wing, and was inside his own cage. His wrists were bound behind his back with what looked like strips of cloth. Normally this would be an interesting sight, but the situation at hand was distracting. 

They were locked in a stone-walled room that seemed to be a storage nook, barrels and shelves lining the walls. A heavy wooden door blocked the view of the rest of the building, whatever it was. But before she could think about any kind of plan, the door burst open.

What appeared to be an entire dust gang were standing there, seven men in assorted psycho masks, paint, and bandit leather, their clothes covered in dust and dried blood. Any of them the type of fine young cannibal she might have been interested in getting to know, were she sitting in a dive bar rather than abducted and outnumbered.

At a nod from a big brute who seemed to be their leader, the closest masked psycho undid the cages and motioned with his gun for her to step out. As two others dragged Jack into the light, Lola saw that he had been gagged and blood flowed slickly over his mask from a cut at his hairline. Both probably inspired by something he'd said to the bandits, an impression seconded by the glares and weapons pointed his way.

Lola silently thanked him. By pissing them off, Handsome Jack had created the perfect angle for her to play; she might get out of this.

“Please help me!” Lola said, looking at the leader with eyes full of tears. A trick she'd learned in one of the less reputable clubs on Deosil, where certain men liked their women crying and begging. She stepped towards him, continuing, “I was taken captive by this dashing corporate type, and now that you've rescued me, I'm ever so grateful.”

Handsome Jack's face darkened at the betrayal, but the gag kept him from protesting with more than a furious look. Lola collapsed against the muscular chest of the barbarian warrior with a shuddery gasp, running a hand down his hard stomach and towards his groin. The man growled low and approvingly, telling her to continue.

Her tone seductive, Lola said, “However, there's one thing you could help me with in return.” She undid the catch on the man's heavy leather trousers, one finger tracing the hard length of his cock, unencumbered by underwear; his eyes half-closed in pleasure at her touch. The others looked on, grinning, awaiting their turns while a couple of the warier ones kept their guns on Jack.

Then, quicker than he could react, she grabbed the cutlass from its sheath on his hip and slashed his throat, managing to mostly avoid the spray of blood from his arteries. Her next action was to slay and disarm the bandit next to him, who was armed with an ancient pistol he'd scavenged from God knows where. She tossed it to Jack, having enough faith in him to know he had freed his wrists by now - cloth stretches. Unlike wire, rope or duct tape (each with their own disadvantages, but much more secure.) Jack gave her a quick wink as he caught the gun, having caught up with the situation and now pretending he'd understood the plan all along.

The doorway to the captives-and-dry-goods storage was a choke point, so it didn't take long to cut down the rest of the gang members as they tried to storm in. They hadn't been expecting two half-naked, disarmed captives to put up this kind of fight before whatever they'd planned for them. To make matters worse for them, a look through their pockets turned up gasoline-soaked rags. A little party favor to key them up for ultraviolence, which had also turned them into stumbling idiots.

"What a bunch of stumbling fucking idiots," Handsome Jack said, startling her. "Worst attempted kidnapping ever."

Lola gave him a sidelong glance, but neglected to comment on him being drugged, bound and caged by inferior beings. She instead looked around the little room, picking dubiously through the barrels of scavenged junk.

“Do you want any of this stuff?” she asked Jack.

Jack shrugged and replied, “Normal looting rules apply. Take whatever looks interesting, kill anyone we missed, burn the place down on our way out. Fuck knows we're never going to come back here.” She pocketed a couple of grenades before they made their way into the main chamber. It was the normal sort of bandit shithole, a former cave they had converted into a hidey-hole full of junk.

Jack looked around. “Nice place they got here. I mean, as a low-tech substitute for a shack goes. Kinda cozy."

Lola looked at him askance, not sure whether he was joking. “Yeah, I really love what they've done with the sodden rags,” she said.

“Oh, don't get me wrong,” he replied. “Sure, it's horrible and smelly and not exactly a model of architectural excellence. But compared to some of the places I've heard called bandit settlements? It's not that bad."

“What, like when they call a campfire on the edge of some fucking rocks with a treasure chest full of silverware a camp?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but that's not even the worst. You ever seen one out made out of a burned pile of timbers? Like it used to be a barn, and then it burned down, and they didn't move. Couldn’t they find a place with a fucking roof?" 

She laughed. “Or they move into a broken down old hotel or something where there's nothing inside except one sodden mattress. What are you going do with that… how are all twelve of you gonna sleep on one mattress?”

She frowned then, thinking about the reality of the situation. “What are we going to do?” she asked. “They took everything important - our weapons, our keys, even my damn wallet. You don't know what I had to do for that money, and even you wouldn't find it pleasant.”

“Don't worry,” Jack reassured her, going into that patriarchal hero mode that she found maddening but oddly comforting. “All of our stuff will be around here somewhere. Everything that belongs to us will be sitting in the same chest. It's a Pandora thing, I guess.”

He proved to be right: the third splintery wooden box they tried had every bit of their former equipment. Lola strapped her weapons back on in silence, wondering whether Pandora was that predictable or Handsome Jack just that clever.

They made their way back above ground, which didn't take long now that the bandits were dead. Sunshine greeted them, as well as the less welcoming sight of a totally wrecked, once shiny yellow car.

Handsome Jack sighed, running his long fingers through his hair. "Now that we have our stuff back, I'll call for a pickup," he said. "But it will take awhile to get here. I don't know, half an hour. Damn it, I'm hungry now." He tapped on his wrist device, sending in orders.

Lola looked at him and burst out laughing. He laughed along with her, then raised a questioning eyebrow. She admired his eloquence eyebrows and the lines of his lips for a moment before realizing that as well as relieved and amused, she was very turned on. "Look at us," she explained. "We're both covered in blood." She flicked her hand playfully at him, a red mist flying from her fingertips and onto his face. "How are we going to get into a restaurant like this?"

"You forget it's Pandora," Jack said lightly, catching her hand. "Blood is pretty much mandatory to the dress code." Still smiling, he kissed her.

She tasted blood on his lips, and shuddered pleasantly. Her slippery hands reached for him, sliding over his smooth muscles, gripping his round ass through the cloth of his boxers. He reached out to her, his blood-lubricated fingers exploring the curves of her breasts, the long lines of her exposed thighs. He dipped her as if they were dancing, then lowered her gently to the warm stone of the ground outside the cave, one hand at her waist and one gripping the back of her neck.

"Weren't we supposed to go on a date before we did this?" Lola gasped, then kissed his neck to show she was kidding. She got less eloquent when people she liked touched her... liking people was so very rare for her.

"I asked for a date," he murmured in her ear. "Not a timeline." He slipped his hand slowly under the lower hem of her underwear, kissing her as he penetrated her with his fingers. His thumb on her clit was gentle, his fingers inside her insistent; she would usually moan at the right times to give a man notes, but he was doing everything right. Her light gasps built to moans, sighs, finally to begging as he beckoned towards that hidden secret button that made her melt.

She broke away from his kiss, pleading, "Please, Jack. Give me more."

"I'll give you everything," he murmured. He kissed her jaw, her neck, her ear. "What do you want? A house? A car?"

"You idiot," she moaned, knowing he was teasing her but still frustrated. He slapped her playfully on the cheek, then grabbed her chin.

"How can I know what you want, if you don't ask me?" he said, while looking deep in her eyes. A message passed between them - 'This is a game. But if you don't play by the rules, you don't play.'

And after all, it wasn't so much. Telling him out loud. "Fuck me," she said, trying to look plaintive rather than petulant. "Please... I really, really want you to fuck me right now. I want to know what your cock feels like inside me." She squirmed a little under his satisfied gaze; and here she'd thought she couldn't be embarrassed by anything. Honesty was her soft limit.

"I can do that," he said softly, then the head of his dick was pushing inside her. He was thrusting so hard it was a little painful, his thick shaft spreading her open, working her deep. She reached around his body to grab his hips and ass as he pounded into her, the gesture almost like an embrace.

She mumbled something. "What?" he asked, picking it up.

"Bite my neck," she pleaded, more clearly.

He obliged, burying those pearly white upper-class teeth into the muscle along the side of it. He knew just where to bite to cause the right amount of exquisite pain - clearly he wasn't just peacocking by presenting himself as a man with sexual experience. And for his part, he was giving out low moans of his own as her educated muscles clenched around him with every stroke.

As they neared their respective orgasms, words failed, their focus narrowed, and the pair could only lock eyes as the crescendo built. Needy, naked, ultimately soulless. There was nothing in their eyes except for enjoyment of the sex, and that was okay. Better than.

Their first climax together was fueled by murder, spontaneity, and convenience. There are worse reasons for sociopaths to fuck. And they were done by the time the Hyperion shuttle pulled up, the subservient driver averting his eyes as he offered them towels, cleansing cloths, and a clean outfit for each.

It seemed that dinner would work out after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I finally worked in an opportunity for some sex. I think I also figured out what to do with Nisha later in the story. Revisions coming for the earlier chapters - there are some continuity problems going on, including Handsome Jack being maskless at first.
> 
> Why did I write this story from the POV of a random stranger falling for Handsome Jack? Because only someone seeing him for the first time would be this amazed and unable to take their eyes off of him, and I love describing me some Handsome Jack. Call Lola "Whats-her-face" if you want; she doesn't matter.
> 
> No one matters to monsters.


	4. Pizza, Sex, Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Handsome Jack and Lola finally get that pizza they were after, and Moxxi indulges in some girly gossip.

"Jack, you have some fucking nerve coming here," were the first words that greeted Jack and Lola as they walked into what was apparently a pizza place - the sign over the door had said Moxxi's Perfect Pie.

"Ah, baby, don't be mad," he said winsomely to the woman standing fiercely in front of them, hands on her hips. "It's all in the past, right? We dated, you betrayed me, I destroyed your Coliseum with a shit-ton of explosives, now you make awesome pizza. You gonna hook a brother up, here?" He gave her his most charming smile.

Lola took a moment to study the other woman, a petite, dark-haired pin-up model type dressed in what could only be described as "clown burlesque." Despite (or maybe because of?) her attitude with Jack, Lola liked her immediately. The tarted-up clown caught her look and smiled back reflexively, then sighed and rolled her eyes at Jack. "Fine, sit down. I'll get you a pizza. But no innuendos for you, understand? I'm that mad at you!" She flounced off towards the kitchen, putting a distracting little swing into her steps that made both of them watch her as she walked away.

"So yeah, that's Moxxi," Jack confirmed, once they were seated in the nearest booth.

"You guys dated?" Lola mused. "Huh, too bad - never mind."

"So you like women too, huh?" he said with a grin.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, come on. You must've learned that when you were stalking me and finding out all my secrets."

"Some people might call it stalking, I call it taking an interest," he corrected. "And hey, I'm sure you still have a secret or two to give up to me."

She refused to be mollified. "So now that you're done asking questions you know the answer to, are you going to tell me what happened?" He opened his mouth, but she added, "And don't bullshit me, okay? You know what I'm asking, and you know I don't want a line." He sat back and thought about it, drumming his fingertips against the table while he decided what to tell her.

"She cheated on me," he said finally. "I really liked her, you know? We knew each other way back in the day, when I was just a programmer. We dated, we said some 'I love you' shit, she fucked some other guy one weekend I had to work overtime, I might have gone a little psycho." He waved a hand vaguely. "Then there was some shit with her and some Vault Hunters... I don't really wanna talk about it, but it doesn't really matter. We'd already lost the trust, y'know?"

"I get it," Lola agreed, and she sort of did. Not that she spoke from experience - relationships and monogamy weren't really part of her life history - but it sounded reasonable enough.

"But she knows it's over, and we don't trust each other for shit, so... at least we know where we stand," he finished. He shrugged. "I don't think she's gonna poison the pizza. It looked like she liked you."

"Very encouraging," Lola said dryly. She glanced over at Moxxi, who met her glance over the bar counter for a moment, then flicked her eyes towards the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Lola followed her gaze and then looked back at her for a significant moment, showing her understanding. "I'll be right back," she told Jack. "I need to fix my hair after that last aircar ride, the wind shielding wasn't as good as on the newer model."

"Of course," he said with a knowing grin. "You go take care of whatever you need to do, doll." She was impressed - it was almost like honesty, the way he knew what she was lying about and why. To maintain the semblance of a cover story, she grabbed her purse (which fortunately, being red, had survived being handled with bloody hands) and headed down the indicated hall.

Moxxi was leaning against the wall just past the bathroom doors, arms crossed in a way that pushed her cleavage up invitingly. "God, he is just so infuriating," she sighed, chest heaving. "I didn't even really cheat, but there's no telling him that." Lola nodded understandingly, not sure who to believe, but it was none of her business anyway. Moxxi continued, "I've never really known how it all went so wrong, you know?"

"He's a psychopath," Lola ventured. "We're not - I mean, they're not really great with relationships." She wasn't good with love advice, but thankfully Moxxi nodded her agreement.

"I know," Moxxi sighed. "It could never work out with him. Only another charming, absolutely terrible person could keep up with him, but I think you might fit the bill." She glanced at Lola and added quickly, "Uh, could we focus on the part of that sentence where I said you were charming?"

"Absolutely," Lola agreed with a grin. "I'm impressed at how you say what you're thinking, actually. It's rare."

"So, yeah," Moxxi sighed, "he's just impossible. A total fucking bastard." Her voice sounded wistful. She paused a moment, then asked Lola, "Have you fucked him yet?"

Lola figured she owed her some honesty in return, so said, "Yeah. There was killing involved, and -" she trailed off to indicate the rest, and Moxxi nodded.

"That's sort of how we got together," Moxxi said. "Enjoy it. His cock is definitely the best thing about him."

Lola grinned. "What else would you need another human for, if not for sex?" They laughed together, and Lola looked at Moxxi sidelong, considering. "Moxxi, do you want to join us for a drink? I think Jack would like that." The seductive undercurrent in her voice let her know that more was on offer if she wanted it.

"I'm not going to drink with him," Moxxi said haughtily. "I am *not* talking to him right now." She paused. "I'll drink with YOU, though. Let's go." Wisely, Lola didn't point out the flawed logic, but slipped her arm around Moxxi's waist to lead her to the booth.

"I see you found something on the way to the bathroom," Jack said neutrally, but the way he spread his arms across the top of the booth and twinkled his eyes signaled his pleasure with the situation.

"Moxxi is going to join me for a drink," Lola said significantly, "but she's not talking to you right now." She slipped into the booth and settled into the curve of his arm, while Moxxi chose to sit on Lola's other side.

"Of course, why wouldn't she be a bitch about drinking my liquor," Jack said in a tone of resignation. He and Moxxi gave each other a competitive glare that reluctantly softened on both sides, without either willing it. Lola suppressed a grin and pulled Moxxi next to her, resting her hand on one of the shorter woman's bare thighs.

"So, Moxxi," Lola said casually, "you were telling me about the best sex you had with that one guy? You know, the total bastard?" All three of them paused automatically in their conversation as a robot server came to the table with a steaming pizza and a pitcher of beer. Lola poured out three glasses and passed them around.

Moxxi's expression flickered between embarrassment, mischief, and pride before deciding to play along. "Hmmm, yeah, that time we hooked up in the Coliseum during a fight. Y'know, before some asshole blew it up." Jack had the grace to look slightly regretful before flashing Lola a grin that said he knew exactly what story Moxxi was about to tell.

"I was in the announcer booth," Moxxi continued. "It was during a big match, tons of bets on the table. I'm keeping up that whole exciting-but-breathy thing, narrating the action, and suddenly that jerk comes bursting in." She glanced briefly at Jack before looking back at Lola. "I tell him I'm busy, remind him that he was supposed to meet me AFTER the last round, tell him to shut up because I have to get back to calling the plays." She sighed, eyelids fluttering closed as she remembered it. "He bends me over the console, hands me the mic, and grabs my hips before saying, 'Don't let me stop you.'" Both women savored the moment appreciatively before she continued.

"He switches the mic back on, then he hikes up my skirt and shoves into me. I wasn't that wet yet... he took me by surprise... but he didn't care if he hurt me, he just fucked me hard. And that made me wet as shit before I'd gotten halfway through the next play." She closed her eyes, remembering. "He grabs my breasts - mauls them - bites me, slaps me, all while he keeps pounding me. And all through this I'm trying to keep up the commentary."

Jack laughed at the memory, an almost intimate sound. Moxxi flashed a smile at him before continuing, "It was like, 'Ohhhh, God! ...Look at that contender go!' 'Ohhhh, that's so hard... but um, I bet our gladiator can handle it!' It was just ridiculous."

"The way we made each other cum was insane," Jack said nostalgically. "It was like... an earthquake, I made you shake so hard."

"Fuck it," Moxxi decided. "You and your new girlfriend, follow me. We're going to have some fun."

"I thought you weren't talking to me?" Jack couldn't help but tease.

"No talking," Moxxi said firmly. "Just follow me and get your fucking clothes off." For once, Lola thought Jack might listen to her.

Fortunately, there was a room behind the bar for just this occasion. Moxxi knew what she liked, and she did it a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> There are several pairings listed in the description that haven't appeared yet. Most of these chapters are planned or partially written.


End file.
